It All Comes Down To You
by theglamourfades
Summary: Rewrite of 4.8. When the burden of the truth becomes too much to bear, Anna decides the time has come to reach out to her husband. Spoilers for S4, slight trigger warning.


**A/N: It's fair to say that DA S4 broke my heart. Storylines can unfortunately not be changed, and I was very unhappy with many aspects, but particularly 4.8 and the Christmas Special. So I decided to turn my hand to rewriting 4.8, mainly for my own sanity, but if it helps others come to terms too, then wonderful. And if you thought that things were resolved okay, I hope you can still enjoy and appreciate this as an A/B fan.**

**Obviously, spoilers for S4 and trigger warning, though I have purposely made very little reference. Also some of the dialogue from 4.8 has been used here, so credit to Julian Fellowes for that. Any similarities to any other fics people have written post-S4 are not intentional; I have not read a lot of them, but I hope to be able to do so from now on. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Downton Abbey. If I did, I wouldn't have had to write this.**

* * *

_It All Comes Down To You_

The hour was late, and the servants' hall was beginning to empty. There were only ever a few people left at this time, usually the same faces doing the same things. Among the last to leave, the dedicated few seeing out the day to past its conclusion, were Anna and Mr Bates, who would sit doing whatever needed to be finished amongst that day's tasks, softly talking to one another in the day's descending hush. Neither would depart before the other, always wanting to save the most important part of the day until a time when they could enjoy it together – the walk back to their home.

Of late they had re-established their regular routine, which had been inevitably interrupted, much like everything else in their lives. Anna lamented it greatly – it was down to her, of course; her erratic and frustrating moods causing her to do and say things she never would have imagined possible in their married life. However, John never complained when she did not wish to share the happenings from her day or walk by his side, her steps following him closer than his own shadow. On those days he would keep his distance, leaving her with a soft farewell and a lingering look. Anna would have to cut it short with stifled tears that cut her eyes like shards of spiked glass.

It should have got better by now, surely. She was not as foolish to expect that everything would have magically returned to the way it once was, but their bond had always been incomparable. Against all the odds that had been stacked against them – and there had been many – they had always battled on, emerging stronger and more united than ever, assured and sheltered in one another's love. His love for her had not failed despite her many fears; indeed it only seemed to have grown now, encompassing in its quiet respect and selflessness. She knew she was denying him, in so many ways, and yet he never faltered. He thought only of her, and of everything she felt.

Her feelings were overwhelming and were still a mystery to herself; she could hardly begin to explain them to anyone else, not even her husband. It hurt her all the more, not being able to say anything, when she had always been able to speak her mind freely to him. Her heart had been open to him, from almost the very moment he had stepped through the door all those years ago. Sealing part of it off was unnatural to her, and she worried about the effects ceaselessly. She discerned the dull ache of guilt reaching further into her soul with each day, and she wondered how long it would take before it consumed her completely. Despite her best and increasingly renewed efforts to carry on, she sensed herself slipping away, disappearing gradually from sight. It was as though the harder she tried, the quicker it was happening. And yet there was nothing she could do. For the sake of her life – for he _was_ her life, now more than ever – she must keep the remainder of the secret shrouded within herself, her burden hers and hers alone. To allow him to be safe and with her for the rest of time, that was the way it must be.

Anna had long since finished the mending that had occupied her for the latter part of the evening; she would have to unpick all of the stitching she had done on the blouse of Lady Mary's that lay before her on the table to go on any longer. Her hands stilling, she cast a glance up to observe the time and was met with the eyes of Mrs Hughes, which had lost none of their warmth and concern that had stayed there for months. As the remaining few ushered themselves out, she offered a well-worn smile to the housekeeper which gave the assurance once again that she was bearing up, if not completely fine. Mrs Hughes returned it with slow bobs of her head. Anna could see that the anxiety was not absolutely faded from her gaze, but she supposed it was the best that could be offered in the circumstance.

"Would you like to come through to my sitting room, Anna? I can make up a pot of tea for us."

Anna smiled at the housekeeper's kind offer and gentle tones, shaking her head softly but enough to portray her answer.

"No thank you, Mrs Hughes. I'd like to save my intake for the cottage. I don't expect Mr Bates will be much longer now."

The warm smile set itself deeper on Mrs Hughes's face. "Go along and see where he's up to. Otherwise I suspect sunrise will come and you'll still be sitting here."

Anna didn't require much further persuading to get up, her body feeling restless enough as it was. Bidding goodnight to Mrs Hughes, she gathered her things, put on her coat and exited the servants' hall with muted footsteps.

John had been absent since not too long after dinner, taking advantage of Lord Grantham's absence to take care of some long-standing tasks. He had laundered and pressed all of His Lordship's dress shirts and had disappeared into the boot room to do a thorough job of polishing the racks of shoes. Though he had insisted that he was glad of the chance to get everything done, Anna couldn't refrain from feeling that she was to blame for his diminished workload, having denied him of the opportunity to head to America. Of course if she dared to say it she knew that he would chase everything away, insisting that he didn't mind at all. He would not have dared to leave her, and she would have been lying to say that she was not relieved about the fact, needing the safety of his presence more than she realised. Yet she wondered how long it would be until he felt assured enough of going away with His Lordship again. Months, years perhaps? _Not only was she making him less of a husband_, _she was also preventing him from making his living. She was ensuring he was disappearing right alongside her. How utterly selfish; hadn't she taken and squandered enough?_

Her steps began to slow instinctively as she paced, nearing the end of the corridor with the closed door glaring at her. She heard and felt her breathing growing unsteady in her chest. She hated being there. Whenever she had to go, which was often enough considering her job, she felt her blood boil and then run cold in her veins, the dread paralysing her limbs and clamping her to the spot. Instantly the black and horrific memories emerged, swirling without permission in her mind, climbing up from the darkness she had attempted time and again to bury them in.

They had been opened up too much lately, regardless of where she found herself. Since Lord Gillingham's last visit they had stayed with her longer than usual, and she had exhausted herself trying to push them away. And now, much too soon although several lifetimes would not be enough, he was to come to Downton again. It had been all she could do not to fall fainted to the floor when Lady Mary had announced the news to her. Desperation and anguish and sheer panic had overtaken her, though she knew they were not the only causes of her blurting it out to her mistress. She could not deny it had made her feel better for seconds, though she felt sorry for the horror that afflicted Lady Mary, her hand held to her mouth as the colour drained from her cheeks. She had begun to shudder as she stood in the room, reliving yet again, but yet more ashamed for the lie that still persisted. Another person witness to the truth of the matter; another person that was not the closest one to her. For so long there had been nothing between them; Anna had vowed that would never be the case ever again. Her pleas had not been loud enough. Lady Mary's assurances that she would do something about the situation faded from her ears and all she was left with was silence, the cavern that would stretch a little more with each passing day, eventually becoming wide enough to shatter what she had always been certain was unbreakable.

Anna took a deep breath attempting to calm herself, raising her still hesitant hand towards the handle. It was her husband behind the door; in him there was the safest place there could be on earth. Her eternal supporter, her saviour; _her John_.

She swallowed back the lump that had come surging at her throat thinking of how afraid she had been lately. Afraid of everything unravelling, terrified that he would do something they would both come to regret when left alone with the other valet. From the way he sent cold, hard stares across the hall she knew that his suspicions were still large in his mind. She cursed herself for doing the slightest things that may give her away, for being so obviously transparent against all of her hard-fought efforts not to reveal anything. Even when they were alone in the cottage he was spending too much time lost deep in his thoughts, ruminating. It made her want to burst into hopeless tears, too scared to consider what might have come. Ever so slowly, she was starting to do what she thought she never would, never even thinking about it because it was so improbable. She was beginning to doubt him.

She wished they were back at the cottage now; she wished they were whole worlds away. But she had come to realise that wishing didn't get you anywhere. The door opened gently before she could take the chance to do so herself; John emerged, still wearing his sleeve covers and apron, holding one shoe by its back along with a near-empty pot of polish. A warmth settled in her stomach on seeing him, hair slightly ruffled, and she was happy that the familiar feeling had not deserted her. His eyes began to grow lighter in the dimness of the hallway, a source of comfort.

"I've nearly ran out," he said in the way of explanation, his voice low, soft and ever so slightly apologetic, in keeping with the manner he had become accustomed to addressing her with.

A small sigh escaped Anna that she was hardly aware of.

"That's enough for one day, surely. You can finish them tomorrow."

She smiled encouragingly, still standing outside of the room. The unhelpful thought that she was often plagued with, that he was simply taking his time because he did not want to return with her to the cottage, came back to her despite no real evidence of its truth. She thought that he hesitated for a moment but it was simply in her mind, as he had already turned to place the items away and take off the sleeve covers and apron.

"That's very true."

He offered her a smile looking back towards her, grappling with his belongings that were many even for his large hands. Anna stepped towards him as he stepped out, the two of them sharing an amused glance at their actions and proximity. She held out her hands to take his jacket and cane and he laid them carefully in her arms while he adjusted his uniform.

"Should we walk back to the cottage?" she asked, still finding that she needed to make sure, though there was little other option. "The others are going to bed."

John nodded as he fiddled silently with his tie and collar. "What were you saying to Mrs Hughes before?"

Anna flustered recalling the hushed conversation she had shared with the housekeeper in a corner of the servants' hall just after dinner. She had been aware of his anxious gaze on the two of them then, her heart sinking as she realised she couldn't very well keep this hidden from him, not when he would know for himself soon enough.

"Just that Lord Gillingham's asked himself for the night again," she replied as flatly as she could.

She watched John's fingers curling tightly upon the knot of his tie and her insides began to churn. His expression was unmoving as he paused, his back to her for a moment, before he turned to face her once more and smiled.

"He can't stay away."

"Yes." They should have been talking about something else, anything else; they should have been talking of what they would have for supper, looking forward to confiding each other's hopes before they set to dreaming once more, perhaps this night lying in one another's arms to go to sleep. She smiled up at her husband weakly. "It's a bit of a tangle."

John raised his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth curved in a half-smile while he buttoned his cuffs, fixing the door closed behind him once he had done so. Relief flooded through Anna not to be taunted by what was in there. "Do you think she's sweet on him?"

She shrugged, her hands still held out in the same position as she gazed up at his figure.

"They're sweet on each other." A hint of longing and fond remembrance coated her voice, until something else crept in. "But it's not as simple as that, is it?"

Some of the weight lifted from her arms as John took up his jacket.

"And then there's Mr Blake."

"I thought she didn't like him," John said, a touch quizzically.

"She didn't," Anna passed the cane from her hands into his, their fingers brushing a bit longer than she expected. "At first."

John gave a little nod of acknowledgement and they began walking back to the servants' hall, their steps matched in tandem. _At least some things hadn't changed._

A heavier sigh escaped Anna as they stopped, and she reached up on her tiptoes to retrieve his coat from the hooks outside.

"Anyway, they can sort it out between them."

He smiled gratefully as she held the coat open for him, shrugging into it. Anna arched up to brush some fluff from his shoulders, tensing slightly as she ran her fingers between the blades. She was able to touch him without thinking too much now, but she was aware that the reverse had quite some way to go to being equal. Things were getting better, little by little, but not nearly fast enough.

She stayed still and silent, lost in her thoughts of what the future might be and how long it may take for a while, for too long really.

"Anna?" John's tone was gentle as ever as he waited just by the servants' entrance. His gaze wrapped her up without touch or words, quietly beseeching and more than a little concerned. "Is there something…" he faltered before he finished, "…wrong?"

A small smile eased onto her face as she met his eyes, so open towards her.

"Nothing at all," she said with practised and slightly aloof confidence. "I'm just feeling tired, that's all." Almost in slow motion she raised her hand up, curling her fingers around his arm within his coat. Anna could feel his pleasant surprise at the action by the way he went momentarily rigid and then relaxed against her. "Let's get going, shall we, before it gets any later."

Side by side, arm in arm, they put the day behind them and set off together.

* * *

John was glad when the cottage came into view, his leg beginning to protest with the weight he had put on it today. It had been a long day, although not really any longer than usual given that His Lordship was away. By all means he should have been able to take things easier over this time but leisure was not something that came easily to him, and especially not of late. As they got nearer, John glanced down at Anna walking by his side, her head lowered, both of her hands now clutched tightly onto the handles of her purse. His mind was crowded with too many thoughts, his body was wrought with exhaustion. His heart continued to be pulled apart with regret and unending agony for her sorrow that was so gracefully composed but still showed through under the light of the falling day, and was always visible to his eyes.

Though it had been a rather warm summer's night, he had observed her shivering through her coat, her dainty shoulders juddering near enough with each step she took. Aside from a few trivial exchanges about what had occurred in the servants' hall that day, she had remained quiet. He missed the sound of her voice so often at his side, her giggle that would grow into a beautiful eruption of laughter at some comment he made that was not at all funny. He couldn't recall the last time that she had laughed, it was like a distant echo in his mind. It would take time, he knew. He was patient; she had taught him that quality a long time ago. She was still his Anna, and she would always remain as long as they both lived. He wanted to stop both of their steps and envelop her in his arms, absorbing all of her pain, making everything alright once more. Yet he knew too much of the unfortunate side of life to know that things could never be that simple. Also he was wary of every single movement he made with her, spent every second of the day playing by her rules faithfully, reassuring her with all he did and all he did not do that everything was entirely up to her. He was her servant, first and foremost.

It hadn't just been today. Something had not been right with her for days, John noticed it clearly. He had attuned himself to her changeable nature and had learnt not to take it personally when she woke up one morning drastically altered from the evening that had preceded it. All he could do was stand by and be supportive, trying his very best to simply let her be. He took the unpredictability with as much outward smoothness as he could; the last thing she could ever need was for his emotions to fracture around her. He would continue to be her strength, just as she had been his throughout his incarceration and for so much longer before that.

Still, he had to acknowledge, at least inwardly and only to himself, that it was difficult. They had been in sync with each other ever since he had arrived at Downton; their minds and their hearts, their hopes and dreams aligning so perfectly that if he believed such a thing to be true he surely couldn't have argued that she was made for him and him for her. Now there existed things he couldn't even imagine, though he had tried in the darkest of nights and nearly sent himself mad. He would always be there for her, however much she wanted to share in time, but he would never truly know the suffering she had been put through. She was higher to him now; that could never be argued. He did not deserve to be even in regard of her, not with the way he had failed her so utterly. Yet there was no room in his head or heart for his self-pity. There was only space for her in the home where she belonged, where she was so utterly cherished and adored. She had never given him reason to regret their life together, and he would work himself down to the bone to be able to give her back the life she deserved.

So much of it was here, in the home they called their own. Each night since she had come back they were slowly rebuilding it, in a new way but one which was no less pleasing to both of them.

Placing his cane by the door that was now locked behind them, John waited to hang up Anna's coat when she had taken it off. She was still wearing it, though she had undone the buttons, and seemed to be making no attempt to disrobe herself of the garment, waiting for something else instead. She turned her head over her shoulder, solemn blue eyes taking his breath away. His own asked the question and Anna nodded, holding her arms out either side of her. Gently he placed his palms upon her shoulders, exhaling a soft breath as his fingers ran down the sleeves, the warmth of her seeping through the layers. It was a huge step. John heard Anna make a little sigh when she turned fully to face him, his racing heart slowing to see the small smile on her face, telling him that she was comfortable. She looked truly radiant, if a little tired.

"I'll go and make us some tea," she said, the exhaustion sounding through in her voice.

"It's okay, I can do it," John began to offer, his only desire to help his wife in any way he could. "You go in and get yourself settled."

Anna shook her head, placing her hand lightly on his arm. "We can do it together, if you insist on getting under my feet."

Her tone was light; the statement was much like the playful scoldings she used to give him so often, and was beginning to again. John smiled, stepping past her to light the lamps in the sitting room before following her into the kitchen. Together they waited for the tea to brew, John placing some biscuits they still had in the cupboard onto a plate, arranging them so that Anna's favourites sat on the side that would be closest to her when they sat down.

They made their way through the pot, cradling their cups in chairs that faced one another. Another little routine that was being reclaimed. They shared conversation and smiles, and John bathed in the glow of each little one of hers that he received. In the comfort that they had created, Anna's eyelids had begun to droop. He asked more than once if she wanted to head up, thinking that it wasn't a bad idea to strive to get some sleep earlier given the long day both of them had had. Instead she replied that she was quite alright, and would like to spend some time reading. He made to get up and fetch her the book she had been reading intermittently down from the shelf, but she was standing at the side of the little sofa before he could move, holding the volume he had been making his way through over the past few evenings.

"I'd like it if you were to read to me," she ventured almost shyly, her feet shuffling underneath her. "And if you would sit with me. If you wouldn't mind."

His face lit up, though he did not allow himself to be carried away, simply overjoyed that she would suggest such a thing.

"Of course I wouldn't, my darling."

Easing himself down onto the sofa, John watched his wife reverently as she settled down beside him, shifting to give her enough space to be comfortable. He took the book gently from her hands, smiling towards her before he began to read, his voice soothing in the silence of the room.

The act filled him with so much peace, peace he had not encountered for months. It felt wonderful to have Anna resting beside him, feeling her breathe evenly and calm as she hung on every word he uttered. Every so often his eyes would look up from the page, having memorised the couple of sentences that were to follow, and his heart swelled to see her, so focused and attentive and utterly beautiful. She was the picture of innocence, an innocence that was so unique to her and that still shone through in moments such as these. He could feel his voice about to catch with the emotion he felt right then and he paused to recompose himself, noticing how her palm had come to lay naturally on his chest. It made him smile like nothing else, and he went on until only a few pages remained.

Closing the book, John leaned back a little more into the sofa, adjusting his arm and lifting his eyes to the ceiling.

"I don't know," he began with a little sigh, "Lord Gillingham, Mr Blake, Mr Napier…it's a good job Master George isn't old enough to understand, or we could have some very awkward questions." He let out a somewhat nervous snippet of a laugh, and saw Anna smile faintly in return. He wished they could discuss other things, but he didn't want to push her and it felt easier to tread familiar ground, away from themselves. "Has Lady Mary said whether Lord Gillingham will be staying long?"

"Hopefully not," Anna replied quickly, it seemed unthinkingly. His brow furrowed as he watched her stumble, seeing the realisation etch upon her face. "Umm, well, it's up to him. I suppose we shall have to wait and see."

She had begun to shift to the edge of the sofa, talking without facing him. The peace of a few moments ago was shattered, it seemed; he could tell that she was closing herself up. John cursed himself for opening his mouth, but he didn't quite know how to track back now.

"Do you not like Lord Gillingham?"

"It's not a question of whether I like him," she answered rather sharply, and then a sigh escaped her, her shoulders shrugging down. "He's very…attentive to Lady Mary. I am glad that she is coming out of herself, but personally, I still think it's too soon to really think about after Mr Crawley."

She turned back around where she sat, and John offered her an understanding smile.

"It takes a long time to get over it, losing someone you love," she affirmed, before glancing to the side and avoiding his eyes again. "If you ever really do."

He could detect something in the way she spoke, that she wasn't simply talking about Lady Mary. At once, his heart cracked in his chest. _His darling Anna. If she thought she was lost to him…_

John shifted himself forward so she could at least sense the comfort he would always provide her with. Anna lingered for a second or two, before she got up, breaking the silence that had descended by placing their empty cups back onto the tea tray.

"I'll tidy these before we go up."

John got onto his feet immediately, towering over her. "I can see to that," he repeated his earlier vow, "you go up and rest." He would always let her go up and ready herself before him now, sometimes staying outside the room for around half an hour and waiting to ensure that she had the space she needed.

The tray was already comfortably in her hands as she began to walk to the kitchen. "Nearly two years and you still don't know where to put all the plates," she brightened, her eyes lifting at him from over her shoulder. "I'll only need to get up earlier in the morning and rearrange them all."

He smiled at her, letting out a soft chuckle. "I'll see you in a little bit."

As Anna disappeared into the kitchen, John pottered around the sitting room, taking apart the lamps and extinguishing their flames. The room fell into shadow abruptly, and he turned slowly to walk out into the hallway. He could barely see anything, but he could hear the sound of muffled sobbing coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was unmistakable, and a great wave of sorrow submerged him. Every tear she shed was like a dagger stabbing at his soul, tearing him apart.

John padded into the room, his half-step and the click of his cane announcing his arrival. Anna had both of her hands planted upon the counter, her head hanging low, catches of breath wracking from her.

"Anna," he started softly, repeating her name in a hush seconds apart. He was utterly distraught to see her this way; if there was anything in the world he could do, anything she would ask him, he would so without hesitation.

She was aware of his presence, turning her small frame slightly as he called her, still hiding her face. Very slowly his hand reached out to touch her, but she gasped loudly – it sounded almost in horror – retracting away like even the sight of him had scorched her.

He shrunk back instantly, filled with remorse. He should have known better by now; how long would it take for him to learn?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." He could never say it enough. "I'm a fool, please forgive me."

It took her a few seconds to look up at him, the paleness of her face making her red-ringed eyes even more striking.

"You have to stop saying that," she said firmly, straightening up suddenly and sniffing away the last of this burst of tears.

John was further admonished by that. His hands fiddled with his cane, and he looked around the room for a few moments, not wanting to encroach upon her any further as she composed herself.

"I'll sleep down here tonight," he said eventually, leaving her with a comforting look before making to shuffle out of the doorway.

Her voice stopped him in his tracks. "No, John, no. You'll be so uncomfortable. Please." The strain that was evident made him turn back to her, his heart aching when he took in her figure again, her eyes wide and pleading. "It's nothing, honestly. It's just…"

She was searching needlessly, eyes flickering back and forth.

"You don't need to explain anything to me. Ever."

He saw her swallowing hard, her gaze locked with his once more. There was some sign that she was calming, looking long enough, but he continued to keep his distance, as much as he longed to embrace her to him.

Smiling towards her instead, he placed his cane firmly on the ground, stepping to the side to allow her to pass by. She moved with slow steps, a tiny bit of her sadness leaving her with each little breath she let out.

"It's not you, John. It's never you. Believe me."

He simply nodded at her, giving her reassurance while she went to ascend the stairs. Standing with the darkness surrounding them both, he couldn't be sure that even if it wasn't him that he didn't so much as help but hinder most of the time.

* * *

The screaming filled the room, bouncing from the walls. Anna's throat was raw with it, pleading with her to stop. Her body was awake before she was, arms flailing from her sides, throwing the sheets from her as she felt herself burn. _Why wouldn't it stop, was her mind so against her that it would force her to relive this ordeal every single night…_

When the ringing and pounding stopped against her head, she could hear John whispering softly and soothingly. He was lying on the other side of the bed, a gulf of sheets between them. His arm rested a little into the space, his palm smoothing over the mattress. With no further hesitation she launched herself towards him, both of his arms opening to take her in as soon as she asked without speaking. She clutched onto him, her nails digging in and likely making indents in his skin, her head clamped to his chest to hear the rhythm of his heart. John's palms began to stroke gently down her back, one lifting to cradle her head against him, his fingers lightly separating the knots of her hair. She felt like a child in his arms, kept safe from harm, and it both comforted her and made her feel desperately sad.

John pressed his face lightly against Anna's head as he rocked her slightly, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath that he hoped would steady her further. It was pointless asking the question of why this had to have been yet again, but on nights like this it was all he could think to do. He could never be unhappy when she was wrapped in his arms but they were still finding their way back to the happiness they once had, and it seemed even further off along the road. It was no fault of hers, she was indeed incapable of it. She had to grieve, to cry and scream and let it out. God knows she kept enough of it to herself during the daylight, putting on a brave face for the rest of the world. She had said that everything they had was shadowed – the words had tore a hole in his soul – but he would be damned if he was going to let the darkness claim her. He would fight with all he had, even if it killed him in the end, to make sure she lived in the light again.

A sliver of moonlight slipped through the curtains, falling upon the shoulders of her nightgown. Anna shifted her head against John's chest, still gripping on with might to his pyjama top, afraid to let him go.

"These last few days…I know I've been strange."

John hushed her, curling his fingers softly into the ends of her hair.

"It's okay," he assured, "you don't have to justify yourself. You be however you want to be."

He felt the smallest trace of a smile against his chest, her body relaxing with each moment that passed. Her grip upon him loosened. After a little while John gently asked whether she wanted to try sleeping again. Anna shook her head, knowing she wouldn't be able to now, not after such a nightmare. They stayed circled together in the shelter of their bed before they slowly disentangled themselves from each other's arms, getting up to go downstairs together. Anna argued that John should go back to sleep himself, knowing the problems he had in the past that had returned lately, but he was intent on being by her side. She felt better for his promise, feeling much more secure in the aftermath with him there.

Sitting on the sofa, Anna watched John as he paced, his shadow trailing across the floor. His movements held her in a trance for a while, overcoming the many other unfavourable thoughts jumbled in her mind.

He adjusted the curtains for a moment; the day was already starting to dawn, gradually.

"Early risers," he uttered softly, letting the drapes fall back away from his fingers. "It won't be long until we have to be back."

At his back, there came a little squeak as another cry was stifled. Anna's face had crumpled, her bottom lip trembling like a leaf in the harshest winter wind. John's own expression fell to his feet, his stomach sinking too as he observed the change in her features, feeling every ounce of her pain cut through him.

There was silence for a few seconds; unexpectedly, she didn't give into the emotions that were waging a war within her. She was weighed down by the burden, and it was becoming too much for her to bear. The last straw was frayed nearly to nothing; there seemed nothing left to break, and yet her heart still pounded with inexplicable fear.

"I feel awful for lying to you, John," she began, the iron strength that still lay within her somewhere willing her voice to cease shaking. "I'm your wife. I promised to share everything with you. I shouldn't…"

"Anna," he uttered her name with such veneration that healed and broke her heart further all at once, "please, there's no need."

She gazed up at him, into the depths of his hazel eyes that were so yielding and ceaselessly compassionate. One of his hands was held out into the air in front of him, another sign that told her she needn't go on for him, that she was still able to retreat into her place of safety. Except it was becoming more like a trap every day, and it was because of him that she had to speak. They were both suffering because of her silence, she realised that now. The consequences were already unfurling before her – not the ones that she was so afraid of, but ones that could prove to be even worse for the way they were slowly tearing them apart.

"There have been so many times I have wanted to tell you," she fumbled with her fingers as they lay in her lap, the glint of her wedding band setting off a guilty spark in her heart. "I made a promise…" She broke off for a moment, consumed with hatred for herself. He had assured her so much, convinced her of her worthiness at still being called his wife over her slow processes of healing the last few months, and yet she was proving herself to be unworthy again, making a mockery of their vows. "I thought I was doing good by you. I only ever want to do that, you do know that?"

The tremble that punctuated her words made him ache for her, and regrettably, an anger came swelling from his guts. The adoration he felt for her in that moment and in every moment since he had known and loved her thankfully overcame his darker emotions, and always would.

"I know, my darling. You know you can say as much or as little as you want, I would never hold anything against you."

John felt his insides clench as he thought of his initial reactions, fuelled by grief and rage and heartbreak that such a fate should have befallen his Anna, the most precious thing in his life. Led wrongly by his convictions and his need to get some kind of justice, he had pushed her for too much too soon, and it had only made her clam up further. He knew she didn't want to be treated like a china doll, too fragile to face anything, but the truth was she was hurting and she would be for a long time yet. The fire still burned within him but it was of no importance compared to the love and care he felt for Anna. He repeated the resolution he made to himself over in his mind as she looked up at him, blue eyes pierced and glossed with unshed tears.

"You don't need to tell me anything," he said, his gaze soft towards her, reassuring her anew. "I know all that I need to." His voice cracked a little, and Anna's mouth hung open, ready to speak a defence. "In time, if you feel ready and want to, I will be here to listen to you. I will always be here for you, now until forever."

Anna felt overwhelmed with emotion; since the night that he told her _he knew_ he had promised her enough to always remain at her side, to never again desert her. In the quiet of the evenings here, when they were still adjusting to everything once more, he reminded her of how she had stayed so strong in the face of adversity when his life was in the balance. She had never forsaken him, even when all the reason in the world told her to. She fought tirelessly for him, and he vowed that he would do the very same in return. He still blamed himself for being harsh to her, for not going down with her that evening, she knew. But neither of them could turn back the time; they could only go forward together.

Still not having broken gaze with him, she inhaled a deep breath, knotting her fingers together.

"I can't talk about everything, not yet." Anna watched as John nodded, giving her no sign that he was frustrated or upset, only that he cared about her. There in his eyes she found everything she believed in, still burning as bright as ever; all of the faith she had in him, all of the love he always held for her. She had been convinced of that fully again over these months, but she almost couldn't believe that she had been so close to losing sight of what she always knew was true within him, and within herself too. "But I do need to tell you." She paused for a moment, the words nearly catching in her throat as she gave them the weight of consideration. "Who it was."

John's brow lifted subconsciously; his lips pursed as he nodded towards her, determined not to rush in as he had done before. It was all up to her, and his heart swelled thinking how incredibly brave she was. She had known all along – deep down, he had known that she had been aware, and he knew why she had pretended that she hadn't been. _Because of him, the many ways in which he would react, all of them completely foolish. _She had every reason to have been afraid of what he was capable of, given his past. There was so much in his life that he had been ashamed of, but he had never been more shamed knowing that he had caused such feelings to surface in Anna. To think that she should have been witness to the side of him that she had never seen, that had been chased away ever since she had graced him with her dignity and goodness, was absolutely despicable. While she was battling so much fear, that she should have been concerned with him and his juvenile tendencies. He was the one who needed to fall on his knees before her, begging her forgiveness for the rest of time.

He gazed at her tenderly, drawing nearer to her.

"The man who…he wasn't a stranger," she affirmed, her breathing slightly unsteady, her heart nearly beating out of her neck. "He wasn't an intruder who had broken in." She stopped again, and John sat down by her on the sofa, holding his hand out tentatively. Tracing the lines that lay within his palm with her eyes, Anna took it gratefully, curling her fingers softly in the gaps between his. "It was…Lord Gillingham's valet." She breathed in slowly, some of the weight lifting from the heaviness that had burdened her soul for so long. Her grasp on his hand tightened as she moved to speak the name. "Mr…"

"Don't," John said, his voice gentle, his head bent towards her, looking down at their entwined hands. "You don't need to say that name."

Anna sniffed back a sob, her eyes full of gratitude as she looked up at him once more. There was so much more that lay beneath them, but at least the storm clouds that had kept them permanently grey rather than their brilliant blue were beginning to lift.

Inside, John shook and seethed with indescribable anger. That man – not that he could be called that – was the first he had thought of, as soon as Mrs Hughes had spoken the words that broke his heart into splinters. He could not believe how wrong it had been, that Anna had had to face that monster only days ago, sitting across from him and looking him in the eyes as he glared at her. And she would have to do so again in days to come, mere hours, bearing all of her agony quietly. His blood boiled until he thought he would explode. He would not leave her side in the house, not for one second. He would have to be wrenched, torn limb from limb, before his separation from her would come to be. A thousand dark thoughts filled his head, thinking of how he could ensure her protection, for once and for all.

Then he was pulled back to her gaze once more, and each and every wicked notion evaporated like smoke, chased away by light and the one thing that was greater than any force on this earth. His love for her overpowered everything else. Her love for him had made him a changed man. He was grateful every second of every day that he could have ever been blessed by such a pure and giving love that she had given to him, and to risk everything that they had built together, that they had strived so hard and so long for, was unthinkable. Nothing he could have done would have stopped it; nothing he could do now would serve to be any compensation. It was a scar that was still fresh, and the evidence would always be etched on their hearts, but it would heal and fade, given time. _Only with their love._

John stroked his hand over the back of hers, and then lowered himself down onto the floor, trying his best not to wince with the pain that was shooting up towards his knee as he knelt before her.

Anna's mouth opened in shock, her head shaking.

"John, please," she begged at him though her voice was still little more than a whisper. "You'll be hurt."

There she was, his beautiful Anna, thinking of him before herself again. Any physical pain he felt was nothing compared to everything she had been through, or the vice that had clamped around his heart. He raised his head upwards, gracing her with a smile.

"I knew," he uttered the confirmation of her thoughts softly, brushing his fingertips very lightly over her knees as they were held tightly together. "Well, at least I thought I knew."

To his surprise, Anna exhaled a shaky laugh. "Am I that see through?" She knew that she hadn't masked it very well; he had always been able to read her like a book.

John shook his head firmly, his smile half replaced. "No, not that. You are brave and wonderful and so very strong, to hold on to this for so long. I should have…" He cut himself short, knowing this was no time for regrets and it was most certainly not about him. After all, he was the very reason she had kept this to herself. He brought her hand forth gently, tracing his finger over her wedding band. "I am proud of you, prouder of you now than ever before."

Anna choked back another sob; she still found it hard to believe that he seemed to love her more now, after everything.

"I had to say it, it was driving me mad. Now that Lord Gillingham is coming back again…" she paused, raising her eyes to meet his, trying desperately to read what was there. A little of her fear lingered; she couldn't help it. But she saw no trouble or sign or need for vengeance there. "I know now that I wasn't to blame, but I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I would have been different. Not that anything can be done now, of course."

The sadness in her voice was almost too much to bear.

"You never need change for anything. You have the kindest heart, the best soul. My love…" John fought hard to stop his own tears from falling, bringing his hand to caress her cheek with one stroke, lifting her head as he did so. That those qualities should have been taken advantage of so cruelly angered all of his being, but he was nothing but utterly gentle and soft with her, still learning from her example after all these years. "And nothing will ever change them. Nothing. You were good and kind enough to let me in, look on me without pity, and I will cherish that until the last breath leaves my body. You are everything to me, Anna Bates."

She was unable to fight it any longer; her husband's heartfelt words sent tears running down her cheeks. He wiped some away gently, but more fell on his hand as he linked it with hers, pressing a feather kiss onto the skin there.

"I will be with you every step of the way, however long it takes," he pledged yet again, his own voice raw with emotion. "I will fight every battle with you, walk through every storm, carry you when you feel too weary to go on. You never need to be alone, not when I am here. And I will never leave you." He gave her a wide and genuine smile through glassy eyes, stroking his fingers over her soft and small hand tenderly, reassuring her of every bit of comfort and devotion he offered to her. "I understand why you never told me." His voice broke with the pain of it, of how needlessly but understandably frightened she must have been. "I do, and I can't say you were wrong for it. You were scared that I was going to do something to him."

Anna breathed sharply. She hated that she had thought that way, that she had started to doubt and be fearful, more than she already was. He had a past, she was not naïve to look past that. He had admitted to her that there were things that lay there that he had not been proud of, but she had always said that nothing he could have done would ever change her opinion of him, or make her love him any less. That was as true as it always was. But she knew that all it could take was a few moments, a haze of madness. She never intended on giving in or stop fighting to take her life back – to take their life back – but it all would have seemed pointless if he was ripped from her again. He was her strength; it would have finished her to be without him.

"I'm sorry I thought that, John. Truly, I am. I was so frightened that night. I have never been more terrified in all my life." She took comfort from his steady gaze, slowly forgetting how her body had shut down with fear. "But what scares me more than anything is the thought of losing you. I just kept imagining you there again, in that horrible place, and this time there would be nothing I could to do to save you. And I couldn't take that, John. I just can't think…"

Shame rushed through him from head to toe. The thought had crossed his mind more than once, he could not deny it. But he could never have done that, not now, knowing what it would do to her in the end. She would always come first; everything paled into insignificance around her.

"It's silly of me, I know." She sniffed loudly again, dabbing at her eyes. "You are different now. You have never done the slightest thing that would make me doubt you."

John kept his eyes locked with hers, a sentimental smile beginning to start and lift the corners of his mouth.

"Everything that I am now is down to you. All that you see before you is because of the love you have shown, the strength you have given to me, the fact that you never gave up on me through the hardest times. And God knows I gave you enough of them."

He was pleased to see that she was smiling a little in return, light coming into her irises now, the spark still evident within her.

"I am different, and it is only because of you."

Anna experienced a warmth she had not felt for a long time rush through her body, kindling deep in her heart. She reached forward on her seat, clasping onto her husband's hand with both of hers.

"Whatever I do now, from this day forth and for the rest of our lives, I don't do because of what you have done for me, as some kind of repayment borne out of duty." He had never spoken more sincerely in his life; both of them could feel the true meaning of his words as he said them. "I do it because I love you, with all of my heart."

The tears she was crying now were not ones of sorrow, not even ones of relief, but of love, pure and simple. She raised both of her hands where they covered his to cup his face, her eyes roving his features, drinking in all of the adoration he had for her in, revelling in everything she had denied herself of for so long and missed so much.

Leaning forward, she pulled his head to hers. Initially, John held back with hesitation and respect for her, but she let him know silently that it was okay, that it was what she wanted entirely. The kiss she pressed to his lips was the lightest either of them had ever known and lasted for only seconds, but the sweetness it brought to them both was incomparable. Anna lay her head upon his shoulder straight after, weeping out the last of the night's tears, and John held onto her with all he had.

They were far from being perfect but it had been a huge step, and for now it was more than enough. There was a whole lifetime for them to go yet that they had pledged to one another, and they would walk the road together, free from any secrets or burdens any longer.

One more thing was troubling Anna and she raised her head from his warmth for a few moments, shivering a little as she looked into his eyes again.

"No matter how we try to think of it, the truth is that I am different now," she said, with no sense of sorrow or self-pity. "I will never go back to how I was, not completely. We can't run from that."

John smiled a little, shaking his head softly.

"No, my love, we can't. And yes, you are different. But not to me." His smile widened as he held her face in his hands, just as he had done those few months ago. "You were always going to change in some way throughout our life together, and I was always going to love you. Every single part of you. And that can never be different."

She let out a little whimper before she said it again, her gaze upon him also seeking his promise.

"Truly?"

The pad of his thumb stroked over her cheek, the smile on his face remaining bright and certain through tears that were yearning to be shed.

"Truly," he affirmed, drawing out the vow and saying it with so much love and honesty that his faith could never be denied.

It was a comfort to Anna's heart as she sank back onto the sofa, clasping John's hands in hers, bringing him to his feet for moments. Then warmth composed her again as she registered him by her side once more.

Without moving too much, John reached forward and retrieved the book from the table, one arm draped the width of the seat, the other holding the volume open as Anna settled against him.

Barely a page was read before they drifted peacefully to sleep together, as the sun started its slow rise in the sky.

* * *

Minutes rather than hours passed, and the time for them to set off to the Abbey for another day came, too quickly. The deeply unsettling feeling sunk lower within Anna as she readied herself to leave, knowing what was ahead. Yet the walk was made easier knowing that one of the biggest barriers between them had been overcome, and she walked with her head held a little higher, her hand held in her husband's, his presence being a great blessing to her. John seemed nothing but calm and the picture of composure as they made their way up to the house.

Their fingers were still locked together on arrival outside the servants' entrance. Halting her steps, being suddenly taken over by a wave of trepidation, Anna pulled upon John's arm, making him swing around slightly.

She offered him a faint and pleading smile as he looked down upon her. John's smile was more reliable, and he lifted their joined hands to rest over her heart and then his own.

"Together," he uttered, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in a gentle caress.

"Forever," Anna replied in a reed of a voice, nodding at him and keeping their gaze unbroken for those few precious moments that froze them in time.

Lord Gillingham arrived at Downton late in the afternoon, without much fanfare given Lord Grantham's absence and Lady Grantham being busy making preparations for the bazaar. Thankfully both Anna and John were in the servants' hall with a few of the others when Mr Green made his entrance. Anna's stomach had lurched and she tried her best not to show her fear upon her face; no matter how much chance she had had to practice, it was still a humongous effort to convey. Standing at her shoulder, she didn't even have to look up to feel reassured at John being so close to her, and as Jimmy bustled up enthusiastically to Mr Green, blocking his view of the both of them, she raised her head to smile at John, wearing it far more naturally when it was just shared between them two.

John was relieved that all of the servants' interactions were closely monitored for that period, Lady Grantham making frequent trips down to the hall to enquire for help in preparing the bazaar. If they could not sit next to one another he would never take his eyes off Anna from across the table, aiming warm smiles at her between mouthfuls of food. When they were at one another's side he shifted his chair a little nearer to hers, his hand seeking hers gently beneath the table. He was also grateful that Mrs Hughes kept herself close to Anna, calling her away for certain 'tasks', and Miss Baxter was another friendly presence, occupying Anna with chatter and the need of some help in getting fully used to her role as lady's maid.

Lord Gillingham departed just before luncheon the next day, just as low-key as his arrival had been, with Lady Mary and Lady Rose bidding farewell by themselves. Anna had been in the servants' hall helping the table to be set when Lady Mary's bell unexpectedly rang, calling her out of her thoughts. She returned to the hall a little bit into luncheon, offering an apologetic bow of the head to Mr Carson as she took her place.

A little after they had finished, Anna and John found themselves standing in the courtyard, the toes of their shoes almost touching. It had been a while since they had been here last, usually saving their encounters for the privacy of their own cottage. As the summer breeze drifted down onto her face, thankfully cooling the heat that burnished her cheeks, Anna smiled wistfully thinking of how important and sacred this very spot had been to them, how much they had shared here – including their very first kiss. It was a memory so distant, and one which it seemed she had stolen from the belonging of someone else not so long ago. But she resolved that she would not let the past slip away – it was the life that belonged to her and nobody else, and she cherished it as fervently as she would learn to look to the future with renewed hope, and would take the present each day as it came, smiling as much as she could.

John looked at her with a gaze that was reminiscent of the one he had held seconds before their lips had met for the first time, and it made her smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her softly, concern coming from every look and breath. "I am so proud of you, of how you were. You did so well, my darling." He paused, exhaling while his eyes caressed hers with their unwavering gaze. "You amaze me."

She blushed a little in the light of his admiration. "I tried my best."

"You did better than that."

He smiled with such promise that she couldn't help but mirror him, though not quite to the same effect.

"When Lady Mary called for me before, she had some news," she began, the jitters within her stomach coming to a gradual calm. "She said that, before he left, she spoke to Lord Gillingham regarding…" She still couldn't bring herself to speak the name, but she could see that John knew exactly who she was referring to. "She asked if he would have any issues about dismissing him. Well," she breathed, "Knowing Lady Mary, she didn't so much as question as demand it be done."

John smirked in response at that, having encountered the lady's tenacious nature and thinking it was probably why she had always shared such a close bond with Anna.

"She assured me that she did not reveal anything about why, but made it quite clear that any further correspondence they have with one another depended upon the action being taken. She said that that was enough to make his mind up, and that as soon as they were back in London, Lord Gillingham was to issue his orders."

Her whole body visibly relaxed on telling John the news, and she closed her eyes for seconds, exhaling a deep sigh. When she opened them again she was flooded with peace and contentment to behold her husband's warm gaze still upon her.

"I suppose I should be thankful that he's so sweet on her, after all."

"She would have found a way, regardless," John assured in his gentle tone. "Lady Mary has your best interests at heart. As does everyone under this roof."

Anna smiled, feeling quite overwhelmed suddenly. There remained sorrow in her smile; nothing had ceased to be real, she had not woken up to find the past few months had been an awful nightmare of her worst imaginings. But with this news, and more importantly the openness her and John had been rediscovering, hand in hand, together, things were changing. A new start was budding in her heart and with tender nurturing, in time, it would bloom to bring a life different from what she had expected, but sweet in another way and awaiting her full participation.

Shifting herself closer to her husband, she placed a palm lightly upon the breast of his jacket, smiling at the warmth she felt there.

"We can start to get things more even now," she said, craning her head to look up at him, her eyes soft and wide.

John smiled down at his wife, so beautiful and eternally hopeful, even if the spark had been understandably diminished in her of late; it had never been completely lost, her will to carry on through the worst had been proof of that.

"There's no need to rush yourself. Little steps. That's what I learned," he affirmed, knowing he would be there every step of her way. "I'll be here always. You can count on that."

Anna nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor for moments as her palms splayed against him. She made little tearful noises, and John held his breath. He would take all of her tears in his stride, let her cry whenever she needed to, but he had not expected it right now. However, when she met with his eyes again, she was smiling through her tears.

"Hold me for a little while?" she asked in a quiet little voice, her eyes burning into his, and he didn't have to be asked twice. John opened his arms to let her climb in, her dainty figure pressing and almost disappearing into his. He heard her sigh, happily he thought, as his hands swept up and down her back in soothing motions, the feel of her beneath his fingertips a balm to his heavy soul.

They remained still with one another, until the bell to announce the beginning of the afternoon rung off in the distance. Regrettably, John shifted his arms, sweeping his hands gently over Anna's arms while he pulled back.

She kept her voice low, lest Mrs Hughes was about to come out searching for them, yet it diminished nothing of her meaning.

"I love you," she uttered, looking him full in the face.

"And I love you," he whispered to her, "for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse."

Anna gave a watery smile hearing him speak his eternal vows again, being reminded of all that had come before for them. They had had most certainly enough of the last, and now there was no other option but for it to become better.

Now, she could truly say that she had faith in it.

* * *

Joyful peals of laughter floated on the air and throughout the gardens of Downton Abbey, the family, staff and local villagers making the most of the fine summer's day and the many amusements that were on offer at the annual bazaar. Lady Grantham had done a wonderful job despite the odds stacked against her, and many people commented that this year's was one of the best they could recall in recent years.

Amongst the happy shouts and chatter, the delighted giggles of a young girl held in her father's arms could be heard, accompanied by a small and soft laugh, as light as the breeze that danced amidst the day.

Anna smiled as she bobbed the rod in the makeshift duck-pond, pouring her focus into the game, hoping to obtain a prize for little Sybbie whose own attention was rapt. It had been lovely to spend some time with the little girl, who had been happy to babble on to Anna in her own language while she listened contently. She even allowed Anna to hold her hand, and Anna was quite amused to find that Sybbie was not prepared to let go for quite some time, showing all the spirit of her father as well as the mother she had sadly never known. She shared some conversation with Mr Branson, which had been a nice reminder of old times – despite his change in position and status, he had always remained down-to-earth and, Anna was happy to know, could still talk the hind legs off a donkey. He expressed a wish to catch up with Mr Bates, the two of them always getting along well when Mr Branson had been the chauffeur with revolutionary ideas. Anna assured him that Mr Bates would be more than happy to speak to him too and said that she would seek him out, just as soon as she had achieved her goal. Only seconds later she struck it lucky, hooking onto one of the little wooden ducks that went floating by. Sybbie clapped her little hands at Anna's exclamation, curls bouncing around her head. Anna laughed again, just a little longer this time, to see Sybbie overjoyed with the soft toy rabbit that she hugged close to her chest.

She didn't have to look very far to find her husband, who could be seen talking with Miss Baxter at the refreshments stand. When he caught sight of her, a wonderful smile spread across his face, and Anna was reminded of yet another reason why she had fallen in love with him all those years ago.

They met each other halfway across the grounds, John handing a cup and saucer into his wife's hands carefully.

"Thirsty work," he commented, nodding over to where father and daughter stood, sharing a joke with one another and the plush rabbit.

"She's a little darling," Anna said, smiling at the heartwarming sight. She couldn't deny the little pang that afflicted her as she watched, and she gazed up with a sad smile at John on instinct, their unspoken bond as strong as ever. She thought she had been ready for children, if such a blessing had come along, but things had changed, at least for now. In the next moment the sorrow was shaken away, and Anna took a satisfying sip of the sweet tea. "But yes, she can be quite the challenge. What have you been up to, then?"

John gave her a little smirk as he shielded the sun from his eyes. "Oh, you know, this and that. I've been grappling with the gramophone. Saving Mr Carson from one job."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine? I think he'd combust if he so much as looked at it." They shared a small chuckle, and she could see his eyes clearly brighten on hearing her. "Before I forget, Mr Branson would like to say hello to you."

"I shall see to it before the day is out," he replied, his gaze still fixed on her and her alone. Anna shifted towards him without thinking, and he leaned lower towards her. "I was thinking, though I expect that Lord Grantham will be back any day now, we're still owed a day for today. What would you say to going somewhere for the day, the beach perhaps? Or shopping, I'm sure there are a few things that you would like to get."

A more familiar smile tugged at Anna's lips as she stared up at her husband, and she fought to keep the amused disbelief from her face. "But you hate shopping."

John's expression crumpled a little before a smile returned there. "Yes, usually. But not when you're there to keep me company."

"Well, maybe I'll see if I can get you a new coat, then," she answered, with the tiniest hint of teasing in her voice. It felt nice to be able to begin to act like this around him again, with neither afraid that she would suddenly fracture at the slightest sound or action. "That would be lovely. A change of scenery." She let out a little breath, contemplating for the briefest of moments. "I shall look forward to it."

They nodded at each other, John softly stroking Anna's wrist, eliciting a contented sigh from her.

Before he went to stride on to the next stall, Anna held on to John's arm, craning herself up to him while they were out of view.

"Thank you," she said softly, with only a little crack in her voice. She hardly had to say what for, though she did so anyway. "For not doing anything. For keeping me together."

John was momentarily speechless, his heart filled with love and admiration at the way this amazing woman looked at him; how she said he was the one who had given her strength throughout this, when the strength she had possessed and shown with such grace astounded him.

"You don't need to thank me. I would do anything you asked of me, my love."

The beauty and sincerity of her smile was reward enough for him, and always would be.

As the sun continued to shine in the skies above Downton Abbey that summer's day, it was a dream to say that everything was bright and unobstructed. But each day, another little cloud passed overhead and another little spot of sunshine came to stand in its place, even if sometimes the warmth had to be strived hard to be felt. There was a long way to go, and the way would likely never be completely clear, but it was a beginning that they were both aware of. A new beginning to face together, with the other always being the centre of one another's world.

Not everything could be changed forever.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that this reads okay. It's probably slightly (or very) unrealistic, though I've tried not to tie everything neatly up. I have been very wary of doing anything around S4 for a while, but the time had come. **

**In time, I'm aiming to write a story from Anna's perspective about her processes of healing (something that was sorely lacking on the show itself) which I want to go about with the utmost sensitivity, so that will take time (and I will strive to make that more realistic, though it will focus on A/B too, inevitably). This is my way of 'fixing' 4.8 largely within the canon narrative.**


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